


Honey Bunny

by artemisgrace



Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Bunnies, Fluff, M/M, Minor Angst, Noiz really loves bunnies, Noiz' Good End, Noiz' Route, Picnics, Post-Canon, Tourism, a lot of bunnies, and Aoba of course
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 12:02:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11013030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemisgrace/pseuds/artemisgrace
Summary: Feeling like he doesn't do enough for his husband, Aoba decides to take Noiz to Okunoshima Island, the island of bunnies, as a treat.





	Honey Bunny

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was commissioned by a lovely repeat client of mine as a birthday gift for their friend, @besttablefork on Twitter.  
> Happy Birthday! I hope you enjoy your gift :)

“Where are we going?” Noiz asks petulantly, pawing at Aoba’s arm as he sits next to him on the ferry, the boat gliding smoothly through the water towards their mystery destination.

“It’s a surprise, Noiz, you’ll just have to wait to find out,” Aoba counters, reaching over to pat Noiz’s hand where it rests on his arm, a placating gesture to soothe Noiz’s ire.

Noiz huffs impatiently, very obviously unsatisfied with Aoba’s answer, and slumps down a little in the seat, looking for all the world like a small, sulking child and not a prominent German businessman. The man did an excellent job of appearing the responsible, dignified adult whenever he was in public in Germany, a place where people might conceivably recognize him, but for all that, Noiz is still very young, only just turned twenty. From time to time, the polished, grown-up veneer must come off, and the juvenile delinquent that Noiz had been will come out to play. 

It’s a good thing that Aoba had fallen in love with him when he was a cranky brat and not the refined professional, Aoba considers, otherwise he’d be unprepared for such times. But he had indeed fallen in love with the troublesome young man, and he would continue to love Noiz, at his worst as well as at his best.

Besides, let’s face it, Noiz’s little pouty expression is really cute …

The island comes into view and Noiz sits up a little straighter, neck craning to look out over the gentle waves lapping at the nearing shore. His head whips around to look at Aoba, expression now more perplexed than petulant. Aoba merely smiles in return. He knows that Noiz is going to love this outing, and he can’t wait to spring the surprise on his man-child of a husband. 

Aoba does love it, the way that Noiz loves to spoil him. He is always deeply touched to come home and be met with Noiz holding out to him a magnificent bouquet of roses, or daisies; whatever flower is currently in season. It always makes him blush happily when Noiz presents him with a new suit to wear for a night out on the town, an extravagant affair involving dinner in a five-star restaurant and the honeymoon suite at a five-star hotel. 

And it’s not just the big things that set Aoba’s heart aflutter, not just the epic romantic gestures that Noiz regularly showers Aoba with; it’s the little things too, the small gestures. It’s the sweet little kisses that Noiz presses to Aoba’s sleeping cheek before he leaves for work in the morning, the way he ever so gently washes Aoba’s hair while they shower together, or the way Noiz cradles Aoba in his arms while they watch television together in the evenings. 

Noiz is the pinnacle of attentive lovers, despite his occasional bouts of childishness, and Aoba appreciates the efforts Noiz goes to more than he knows how to express, but sometimes it can make him feel a bit … inadequate. Noiz just does so much for him, and Aoba worries that he doesn’t do enough in return. He knows that it doesn’t matter to Noiz; he knows that, as Noiz has said time upon time, he’s just happy to be able to do things for Aoba, but it’s still uncomfortable for Aoba to think that he’s not as outwardly affectionate to Noiz as Noiz is to him. Noiz has had a rough life and he spent much of it totally isolated from the love he needed and deserved, which is why Aoba feels it is so very important that Noiz knows that he is cared for, that he is loved now. It worries Aoba to think that Noiz might not understand that.

That’s how this whole little adventure had begun. Aoba had been brainstorming for the perfect treat to give Noiz, a loving gesture like the ones Noiz makes for him, and, while on one of their regular visits to see their old friends on Midorijima, Aoba had seen a pamphlet advertising the attractions of Ōkunoshima Island, in Hiroshima Prefecture on the mainland. The island’s history may be less than cheery, having been the site of a chemical weapons plant in the past, but nowadays the island is the home of hundreds of bunnies; big, fluffy rabbits hopping everywhere across the landscape. And therein lay the main attraction. Noiz’s love of bunnies simply cannot be overstated, so great is his affection for the fluffy creatures, and that fact made Ōkunoshima Island the perfect destination for a day trip treat. 

Aoba had done some research regarding the visit and, for that reason, unbeknownst to Noiz, Aoba’s backpack is not only filled with little packed lunches for himself and Noiz, but also a baggie full of snacks for the island’s rabbits. The packed lunches for the two men were also part of the bunny-themed outing, Aoba having spent hours in preparation, making every item in their bento boxes, as least those things that could be appropriately molded or cut, into little bunny shapes. Noiz always went all-out with his grand gestures for Aoba, so Aoba would do his best to go all-out for Noiz. 

The ferry lands at a small doc on the island’s shore, and the passengers, Noiz and Aoba among them, descended onto Ōkunoshima Island. 

“Okay, so we’re here,” Noiz says, sweeping his eyes over the unfamiliar landscape, “will you tell me where we are now?”

“In a moment,” Aoba replies, reaching around to retrieve the bag of bunny treats from his backpack and pass it over to Noiz, “but first take this.”

Noiz does as he is bidden, taking the bag of treats from Aoba and looking it over before turning his eyes back to Aoba, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Hehe,” Aoba chuckles, “I promise it will all become clear in just a little while. Now, bring that bag and let’s walk a little further inland,” he continues, turning to lead Noiz off the dock and onto the island proper.  
Noiz follows obediently, still confusedly clutching the treat bag.

The come to a wide, paved street lined with trees, a place that Aoba remembers well from an internet video he’d seen of a woman being mobbed by a crowd of happy bunnies looking for handouts of food. Aoba intends to see said video reenacted here and now, but with a happy Noiz being mobbed by bunnies instead of an anonymous woman on the internet. 

“Oh!” Aoba exclaims, turning suddenly back to Noiz and taking the other man’s hand in his own, “Noiz, shake the bag!”

“What?” Noiz asks, looking at Aoba as if the blue-haired man had suddenly sprouted a Tom Selleck mustache, or something equally strange and ridiculous. 

“Don’t look at me like that, Noiz! Just shake the bag and you’ll understand in a few seconds.”

Noiz still regards him with perplexed suspicion, but he does shake the bag, gently at first, before Aoba gestures for him to shake it with more vigor. Taking the cue, he begins to shake it hard, the contents making a “shhhk, shhhk” sound within the paper confines of the bag. It is then that they hear the pattering sound of dozens of tiny feet.

The grass and bushes around them practically erupt with rabbits, the fluffy creatures appearing all around Noiz and Aoba, running towards the sound of the shaking bag as fast as their little feet could carry them. As more and more appear, the pattering sound of their paws hitting the ground rise to a crescendo of noise as they hop onto the asphalt upon which the two men stand. 

Aoba looks up, grinning, to take in the expression on Noiz’s face, finding it to be one of shock and awe. Noiz stands stock still, eyes wide, still holding the bag in his right hand, while the left is occupied by Aoba’s own hand. Clearly, he needs a little nudge, so Aoba gives him one, gently elbowing him.

“Go on,” he encourages the younger man, “open the bag and give them some treats.”

Noiz moves to do so, still appearing somewhat disbelieving of the mass of bunnies that surround him. They bounce excitedly at his feet as the bag is opened and he tosses some of the contents to the eager crowd, watching as the rabbits scatter and reconvene to nibble at the treats on the ground.

Aoba watches the proceedings, a grin stretched wide across his face as his husband feeds the bunnies. The grin morphs into a look of concern, however, as he glances over to see Noiz’s face, the younger man’s eyes brimming with unshed tears and his face colored with the splotchy redness of a person trying very hard not to cry.

“Oh my god!” He exclaims, turning to gather Noiz into his arms, pressing his face into the man’s chest as he asks, voice more than slightly frantic, “Are you okay?”

Noiz has gotten much more in touch with his emotions, and much better at sharing them, since Aoba used Scrap on him, and he’d improved even more so since they’d been living together in Germany as a married couple. That said, Noiz still wasn’t much of one to cry, and the sight of him so close to doing so worried Aoba greatly.

The man lets out a silent, shuddering sort of sob, Aoba feels it rippling out through Noiz’s chest, against which is own face is pressed. 

“I’m sorry, Noiz,” he mutters, a hand reaching up to stroke the other man’s back soothingly, “I meant for this to be a treat for you; I didn’t mean to upset you …”

“No,” Noiz replies, voice thick with emotion, “I’m not upset … actually, I’m … really, really happy.”

Aoba feels gentle fingers brush underneath his chin and Noiz tips his face upward. Noiz’s eyes catch Aoba’s, and now, looking up into his husband’s beautiful green eyes, Aoba can see that the emotions overflowing from them are not feelings of sorrow, but of joy, and he feels his own eyes begin to fill with tears in response.

“Yeah?” Aoba hears his own voice break just a little as he smiles up at Noiz.

“Yeah …” Noiz smiles sweetly down at him, and once again Aoba is reminded of how much progress Noiz, has made since they first met. 

Back then, before Platinum Jail and the fall of Oval Tower, before Scrap, Aoba would never have seen Noiz speak with such open emotion and honesty, and he can’t help but marvel at how Noiz is able to do so now. It’s been a long road, and a difficult one at times, but every step of the way has been worth it. 

“Thank you for this, Aoba,” Noiz whispers, pulling Aoba back towards him and into a warm embrace, “I love it ... And I love you.”

Aoba gasps quietly from where his head is tucked close to Noiz’s chest, close enough to hear the slight elevation of Noiz’s heart rate. They’ve made a lot of headway, the both of them, but the words “I love you” are still rare between them, still difficult to say due to the phrase’s implied vulnerability. The two of them choose instead, at least most of the time, to use actions to convey the message. 

And there’s something to say for the rarity of the phrase increasing its effect, increasing its meaning. It’s a hard thing to say for the both of them, and as such, the uttering of those three little words means so very much more, each and every time. The words “I love you” were elevated to mean “I can’t imagine my life without you,” or “you were the best thing to ever happen to me.” And neither of them could ever say it enough.  


“I love you too,” Aoba sniffs, stepping up on tip toes to press a gentle kiss to Noiz’s lips, “my honey bunny.” He means it, he really does, along with everything it implies. 

Slipping back down to stand flat on his feet, Aoba withdraws a hand from Noiz’s body to wipe his own eyes, blushing at the use of the silly pet name he’d taken to calling Noiz, largely in the privacy of his own head.  


“So,” he begins awkwardly, gesturing to the crowd of rabbits that still mill about at their feet, “we’ve still got half a bag of bunny treats. What do you say we feed some more bunnies?”

Noiz grins at him, his face lighting up once more like a child at Christmas, clearing his throat and whispering to Aoba: “Okay. I’d like that.”


End file.
